Quench Me
      Chapter 22
 

 
My mind is swimming, and I think that surely I must be imagining things. Did he just say "marriage license"? Somewhere above all the noise in my head, I hear the clerk talking to Danny about the marriage license, and I realize that I'm not hallucinating. For me, this moment is more complicated than anything I've ever experienced in my life. Maybe it's crazy, but I really do want to marry Danny, but not this way. I don't want to be a player in one of his games.

"If you'll wait just a moment, I'll be right back with your license," the clerk says, as she disappears into a back room behind the office.

When she's safely out of earshot, I turn to Danny and say, "What the hell are you doing?" My anger is evident in my muted whisper.

He looks me dead in the eye and says, "I'm proving my feelings for you, Michelle. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You KNOW that this is not what I wanted," I say. "I didn't ask for a big ass drama production."

Just then, another young couple walks into the office and stands in line behind us. Danny puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. He lowers his lips to my ear, so it appears that he's whispering lovingly to me. "Look Michelle, if a big ass drama production, as you put it, is what it's going to take to get through to you, then that's what I'm going to do. So, when she comes back here with the license, you're going to sign it. And, you're going to smile while you do it."

I don't even get a chance to respond to him before the clerk is back at the counter with the marriage license. She shows Danny where to sign, and I watch as he puts his signature on a license that could join us as husband and wife. She turns to me and hands me the pen, pointing the place on the license where I'm supposed to sign. I quickly sign my name next to his, and when I'm done, I'm shocked to realize that it didn't feel at all odd, but rather natural. I must really be losing my mind.

"Now, just be sure that everything is completed, and bring it back after your wedding, and we'll make sure it gets filed," the clerk instructs us. "And, congratulations."

We walk out of the office, holding hands like two young love-birds, but when we get into the hallway and the clerk can no longer see us, I take off down the hallway, walking as fast as I can without drawing attention to myself. Danny is right on my heels, and when I burst into the stairwell, I run down the flight of stairs as fast as I can. I make it to the parking lot before him, and I'm standing there shaking when he reaches me.

"Shit Michelle," he almost yells. "Why'd you run off like that?"

I can't even answer him. I just stand there, shaking like a leaf, until he puts his arms around me and my tears start to fall. His mouth is on mine before I know what's happening, and yet again, the power of his kiss threatens to wipe away everything that has just transpired.

I manage to break away from him, and catch my breath. He lifts my face to his and says, "Come on, Michelle. You can't tell me that you don't want me."

Surprisingly enough, I'm not angry anymore. I'm just hurt and frustrated that I can't seem to get my point across to him. "That's not what this is about," I begin. "I can't keep letting my body make decisions for my heart. And you shouldn't either, Danny. It's got to be the other way around."

"Doesn't this tell you anything?" he asks, waving the marriage license in front of me.

"Danny, these are just words on a piece of paper," I say pointing to the license. "Anybody can walk in there and get one of these. These words didn't come from you. I don't really know what you were attempting to do, but whatever it was, it wasn't necessary. All I wanted was for you to be honest with me."

Without a word, he unlocks the car door and opens it for me, and I silently slip into the passenger seat, as he throws the marriage license in the tiny back seat of his Nissan. He's behind the wheel in a split second, speeding the car toward my house. The drive home is void of conversation. Neither one of speaks a word. When we reach my house, I don't wait for him. I get out of the car as fast as I can and practically sprint toward the door. He follows me, and once inside the house, he finally speaks.

"I just don't know what you want from me," he says.

"That's a cop-out," I tell him calmly. "You know exactly what I want. You just don't want to do it."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" he asks, throwing his hands up in the air.

I say a silent prayer of thanksgiving that Rick is not home before continuing. "I asked you a very simple question at the courthouse, and you could've just answered me truthfully. But you couldn't, or maybe you just didn't want to."

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?" he yells.

I'm standing behind the kitchen counter now, purposefully putting some distance between us. Still, I'm not angry, and my desire to make him understand is stronger than ever.

"Danny, whatever this is that's developing between us is not ordinary for me. Nothing about this has been anything close to ordinary. And I guess I just wanted to know that this wasn't some run-of-the-mill romantic tryst for you."

"That's what I was trying to tell you," he replies.

"But you didn't have to make such a big deal out of it," I say. "I wasn't asking you to tell me that you're in love with me or that you want to marry me and have kids with me. I just wanted you to open up to me. I just wanted you to let me into your heart a little bit. You were starting to before you left for Atlanta, and I just wanted to get back to that point."

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't even look at me, and I realize that this conversation has got to end, for both our sakes.

"Look Danny, I'm not angry," I say. "But I am really frustrated, and I can't have this conversation with you anymore. Not right now. I just can't keep going around in this circle."

I grab my car keys off the kitchen counter and say, "So you can stay here as long as you want. Rick won't be home until after midnight. But I'm leaving."

I head toward the door, and Danny asks, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the gym," I answer. "To kick the shit out of something."